


Two Cups of Flour

by copper_wasp



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Baking, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Family, Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper_wasp/pseuds/copper_wasp
Summary: Vergil reminisces on a childhood memory.My piece for INVICTUS !
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: INVICTUS Zine





	Two Cups of Flour

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for INVICTUS: A Vergil and Dante Zine

The oven already on and preheating, Vergil adjusted his position on the tall stool he was sitting on, empty mixing bowls, spoons, and measuring cups scattered around him. 

Eva plunked a bag of flour in front of him, gently patting him on the head with a soft smile. “Can you measure the flour for me, my darling? Two cups.”

He nodded, picking up the bag. It was heavy, but not unmanageable, and he carefully tilted it over the measuring cup in front of him. His mother was busy juicing the lemons, their tart citrusy scent wafting over to where he sat. 

Vergil vaguely heard the screen door clack shut, along with rapid, stomping footsteps, but he was engrossed in his very important measuring task. He couldn’t fail his mother, not when she’d specifically asked for _his_ help.

In hindsight, he probably should have been more concerned with Dante’s arrival into the kitchen, as mere seconds later, his twin lost his footing as he ran, careening into the stool Vergil was perched upon, abruptly knocking both Vergil and the large bag of flour he held over, the white powder drenching the boys and the hardwood floor. 

“Oh!” Eva exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at her sons. 

Dante shook his head like a wet dog, sending even more flour onto the floor, raising his clear blue eyes to meet those of his brother’s. 

“Uh oh,” Dante said quietly, already seeing the rage in his twin, and he quickly scrabbled to his feet, using the toy sword he’d been playing with as leverage. 

“Prepare to die, Dante!” Vergil said, fire in his eyes as he began to chase Dante around the kitchen island, only slipping a little in the coating of flour on the floor. He took a slight detour to grab the matching wooden sword he had propped up against the cabinets for safekeeping, then continued his chase. Dante was the wounded rabbit and he was the Bloodhound, the sword in his hand feeling as natural there as if he had been born with it. 

Dante was cackling wildly, running backwards to try to block Vergil’s strikes. 

“Come at me, foul villain!” Dante challenged with a thrust. Vergil blocked it easily, following with a riposte that just missed his twin’s shoulder. 

He could hear his mother laughing, the sound like a wind chime in a gentle breeze. They traded blows, each gaining a point on the other, Vergil fighting to keep his smile at bay. 

“Is that all you’ve got, Vergil?” Dante asked, trying to plant another wack on Vergil’s arm. Vergil pushed forward and Dante took off once again, floury footprints in his wake.

Vergil spring into action, intending to give chase, but his mother’s swishing skirts in front of him stopped him in his tracks. 

“Come here, my son,” Eva said, hauling Vergil up into her arms, gently brushing the flour off of his shoulders. She was smiling at him, even though he and his brother had made a mess of the kitchen, even though there’d no doubt be bruises on the two of them that she’d have to soothe, even though there was flour sticking to her dress and her long hair. She never looked at him with anything other than love, like he was her greatest gift. 

Dante tugged at her dress, a silent demand to be held as well, sword abandoned on the floor. She lifted him into her arms as well, though both of them were probably a little too big and heavy to still be held. 

“It seems we made a bit of a mess,” Eva stated, trying to suppress a laugh. “No matter! Dante, why don’t you help us finish baking? We can clean up when we’re done.”

Dante gave an embarrassed smile to his mother and brother, nodding before Eva set them both back down on the floor. 

“Good thing I have an extra bag of flour,” she commented, pulling another large sack from the cupboard. 

-:- -:- -:-

“Hello, dear,” Eva said, taking a dainty bite of lemon square and giving her husband a sly look. 

“I see you had fun baking,” Sparda replied, his gaze traveling from his flour-covered wife to his flour-covered sons. 

“Quite a lot of fun, right, boys?” Eva asked, Vergil and Dante nodding in reply. 

“Well, I would like to join you, but it seems I am not dressed properly,” Sparda said, walking over to the messy countertop. The twins watched with interest as their father swiped his hand through the powder, immediately brushing it onto his chest and shoulders, bright against the fine black fabric of his clothing. 

Walking back over, Dante trying and failing to conceal his snickering, Sparda ruffled each of his sons’ hair, flour cascading down onto the table in front of them. Sparda sat in the open spot at the end, reaching over to grasp Eva’s hand. He lifted it to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss to the top, before shoving an entire lemon square into his mouth. 

“Delicious,” he commented, muffled from the treat. Dante giggled, grabbing another and Vergil, despite himself, giggled too. 

-:- -:- -:-

Vergil sat alone at the kitchen table, pen scratching across an index card as he wrote out each ingredient and step with care. 

When he finished, he held the card up, watching for the shining ink to dry. His brows furrowed, wishing he could write his mother down as well, keep her forever in black ink, tucked away in a box for safekeeping. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep angry tears at bay. He heard Dante’s loud, stomping footsteps echoing on the hardwood as he entered the kitchen, so reminiscent of those in the memory he’d been reliving. Tucking the recipe card into the small wooden box, he turned to look at his brother. 

“We’ve got another job, let’s go,” Dante said, leaning against the door frame. 

“Very well,” Vergil replied, standing and pushing his chair in.

“What were you writing?” his twin asked, walking with him to the front of Devil May Cry. He tried to stop himself from looking, but he immediately turned to the frame that held her picture on Dante’s desk, old and faded and creased. He wished there was a replacement, one that didn’t dull her beauty, but all he had was the vision of her in his head, the image becoming more blurry with each passing day. 

“...It was nothing,” he said after a long moment, grabbing Yamato. Dante shrugged, knowing he’d get no more from his brother, and Vergil gave him a weak smile in return. 

Dante clapped him on the back, kicking open the front door, a gust of cool air welcoming them into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Find me on:  
> Tumblr: [copper-wasp](https://copper-wasp.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [copper_wasp_](https://twitter.com/copper_wasp_)  
> Discord: copper_wasp#1545


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